Jockstrap Central — Ahh, the classics

Dirty jockstraps, dirty pleasures

It’s my birthday, and this time every year I think about how I became the dirty gay man I am today. As I picture all my favorite dirty people and things, my love of jockstraps and men’s underwear stands out far above the rest.

I’ve decided that the root of jockstraps giving me an enormous, juicing boner is the classic Bike #10 strap. It’s the strap you could smell through an athlete’s uniform, or that I saw poking out above Coach’s waistband while he watched us shower after class.

All grown up, it’s the jock I stole from the locker room sauna, one or two carelessly left behind on the hot wood to dry, unknowingly fueling a hormone and adrenaline surge in me. I would rush to stuff it into my gym bag so I could beat off to it later in secret, only to steal another a few weeks later, and another, and another.

Holy shit! It’s time to restock! < Get Dirty >

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